Infinitely Losing My Edge
Yeah, I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
The kids are coming up from behind.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids from Germany and from Houston.
But I was there.
I was there in 1971.
I was there at the first Selda show in Istanbul.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge to the kids whose footsteps I hear when they get on the decks.
I'm losing my edge to the internet seekers who can tell me every member of every good group from 1961 to 1977.
I'm losing my edge.
To all the kids in Cairo and Woodstock.
I'm losing my edge to the art-school Stockholm kids in little jackets and borrowed nostalgia for the unremembered nineties.
I'm losing my edge.
I'm losing my edge.
I can hear the footsteps every night on the decks.
But I was there.
I was there in 1983 at the first Art of Noise practice in a loft in London.
I was working on the rhodes sounds with much patience.
I was there when Captain Beefheart started up his first band.
I told him, "Don't do it that way. You'll never make a dime."
I was there.
I was the first guy playing The Seeds to the rock kids.
I played it at the Astoria.
Everybody thought I was crazy.
We all know.
I was there.
I was there.
I've never been wrong.
But I'm losing my edge to better-looking people with better ideas and more talent.
And they're actually really, really nice.
I'm losing my edge.
I heard you have a compilation of every good song ever done by anybody.
Every great song by Black Bananas. All the underground hits.
All Neil Young tracks. I heard you have a vinyl of every Eve St. Jones record on German import.
I heard that you have a white label of every seminal rap hit - 1985, '86, '87.
I heard that you have a CD compilation of every good '60s cut and another box set from the '90s.
I hear you're buying a 808 and a snare and are throwing your macbook out the window because you want to make something real. You want to make a Camouflage record.
I hear that you and your band have sold your marimba and bought a rhodes.
I hear that you and your band have sold your rhodes and bought a marimba.
I hear everybody that you know is more relevant than everybody that I know.
But have you seen my records?
The Velvet Underground,
Tres Demented,
Robert Hood,
Pussy Galore,
Ponytail,
Metal Thangz,
The Divine Comedy,
Warren Ellis,
X-Ray Spex,
Clear Light,
Howard Jones,
Popol Vuh,
Sad Lovers and Giants,
James Chance & The Contortions,
Flash Fearless,
Barrington Levy,
Faraquet,
Chris & Cosey,
Pharaoh Sanders and the Fire Engines,
Fort Wilson Riot,
the Normal,
Throbbing Gristle,
The Wake,
Scratch Acid,
The Cure,
The Tremeloes,
Iggy Pop,
Peter and Kerry,
Davy DMX,
MC5,
The Alarm Clocks,
B.T. Express,
Michelle Simonal,
Lou Reed & Metallica,
Niagra,
Eyeless In Gaza,
Jimmy McGriff,
Albert Ayler,
Eli Mardock,
Black Sheep,
Pantytec,
Mary Jane Girls,
Johnny Osbourne,
Kings Of Tomorrow,
10cc,
The Blackbyrds,
Stereo Dub,
In Retrospect,
Sexual Harrassment,
Liaisons Dangereuses,
Moebius,
Barclay James Harvest,
Tropical Tobacco,
Eric Dolphy,
Mission of Burma,
Groovy Waters,
Heaven 17,
Masta Ace, Craig G, Kool G Rap, Big Daddy Kane,
Todd Terry,
Fat Boys,
Selector Dub Narcotic,
Television,
Spandau Ballet,
Silicon Teens,
The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five, The Dave Clark Five.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.
You don't know what you really want.